Underneath the Mistletoe
by Butterfly Conlon
Summary: "What do you want for Christmas, Spot?" she asked. I could not bite my tongue and concot a fib. "Ta be rid of this hoit, dis pain, dis angah," I whispered. I was interrupted as she pressed her bewitchingly warm lips to mine, underneath the mistletoe.


Note from Author: Merry Christmas!  
  
UNDERNEATH THE MISTLETOE  
  
I had not wanted to attend the party. Though, it was Jack's relentless persistence that made me alter my decision in the end. He said that is was to be some Christmas party. Yuletide cheer.  
  
Cheer this, I pondered bitterly, as I stared out the spider-web laced windows at the delicate, immaculately white snowflakes that hurled themselves against the glass. Forehead pressed against the pane of dusty glass cold to the touch, I exhaled, a shard of the window steaming up due to my hot breath.  
  
With a great sigh I threw myself back, and quickly brought my balled fist to the window, wiping away the romantic steam in one swipe. I turned away, content with the notion that Jack and his joyous party could hang themselves, when I did a double take, brought my eyes back to the window.  
  
The veils of snow were coming down with a vengeance now, bright against the dark sky. It entranced me, enticed me, so that I was drawn to it. I blinked and shook my head like a horse shaking the snow from his mane, and then with a flourish I had grabbed my threadbare jacket and was out of the lodging house, the door tossing helplessly in the gusts of howling wind that ruptured the sky, spilling the snow about.  
  
I was off the rickety, splintered porch and touched my feet to the earth, my scoffed shoes crunching in the snow below me. My frozen, numb hands violently clawed at the insides of my pockets, desperate for warmth. The coldness had seeped into my shoes in a matter of moments, inducing its chill into them, and every step painful to take. My cheeks, I knew that they had taken on the shade of a blood red rose blooming after a long hibernation.  
  
My gaze was to none save the pristine ground, the mounds of collecting, glittering snow. The howls of the wind like ravaging wolves were companion to my hearing, the subtle sounds of sweet, melodic Christmas caroler's voice's laced within.  
  
I was in my own cocoon of reverie for the entire journey, every depressed notion being wrung from my tired mind, my eyes tricking me in a horrid jest to believe that the white snow was in actuality the hellfire red of her spirals.  
  
Ungodly, sorrowful thoughts had made their residence in my psyche, when I was abruptly jolted to reality by walking plum into something, nearly being knocked to my feet.  
  
I caught my balance. The dark silence that I had made friend to on the trek to Manhattan had whispered black sweet nothings into my ear. Yet now I was back to consciousness, and sonorous noise filled my ears, almost causing them to rupture.  
  
I averted my eyes to see who the perpetrator had been.  
  
It was Kid Blink. His shock of blonde hair was awry and his patch askew, and his balance faulty. He held in one arm an attractive redhead and in the other a bottle of whiskey. A drunken smile settled onto his lips, as though who I was took a while to travel throughout his intoxicated mind.  
  
He stepped back, regarding me thoughtfully, until that insane smile lit up his features and he swatted me on the shoulder with the hand he held the bottle in. "'Eya, Spot!" he hollered, his balance wavering.  
  
The redhead who had been tittering madly suddenly halted, her breath gathering, until the released a stricken sigh, her bright eyes falling upon me lovingly.  
  
My gaze was on the girl as Blink audibly shouted, "'Ey Spot! Good ta see ya! Cowboy told us day ya didn't know if ya were gonna be comin' or not. Glad ta see ya. Free booze inside foah everyone!"  
  
Yet, his features suddenly grew marmoreal and he leaned in closer to me, stumbling, causing the redhead to release a cry of protest. His great blue eyes locked on mine, unfocused. He opened his mouth, the hot, pungent odor of the alcohol on his breath invading my nostrils. "Hey, man, I'se sahrry 'bout what happened."  
  
I regarded him, bewildered. I knew that he could only mean one solitary notion in the world, yet how he knew of it was beyond me. "What d'ya mean?"  
  
His eyes widened and he leaned back, and he suddenly appeared as though he had let some sort of cat out of a bag. He began to stutter. "I-I-I--"  
  
Yet, I was determined to learn how he could have possessed this information. My chilled, red hand went to his collar. "Sahrry 'bout what, Blink?"  
  
My heated gaze was upon Kid Blink when the redhead listlessly answered. "Annie, Spot. We'se knew somethin' was up cause of the way she was dancin' in there with those oddah newsies?"  
  
My eyes flickered to the girl as I felt hot and cold surge through me, combining in an unforgiving manner. I released Blink, my vision falling upon them both. My eyebrows were cocked insolently as I brushed passed them and stormed up the stairs of the porch, the wood moaning under my weight.  
  
More random greetings filled my ears, yet I ignored them. I only quickly entered the lodging house, my face scorching and my hands furiously grabbing at the insides of my coat pockets.  
  
Inside, it was indeed Christmas. A silly miniature fir tree had been set up in one corner of the parlor, the corner opposite to the one that held the booze. Miscellaneous newsies from all districts were cramped inside along with the innumerable females, most carrying sparkling alcohol bottles in their grasps (the ones that weren't scattered upon the floor.) There was a poker game of course led by Racetrack at a warped table and the bowl of eggnog sat, most likely already spiked.  
  
Alas, my eyes fell to the corner where a few of the boys were showing their virtuosity on simple instruments, and the couples that danced rambunctiously about. And they fell, unmoving to her.  
  
Annie. She was dancing fecklessly about, her wild red curls bouncing, reflected in the moonlight, littered with silvery tinsel. Her skirt twirled above her knees, at intervals revealing her vermilion garter, the garter only a few hours before solely I had been able to lie mortal eyes upon. I saw her full red lips open in a soundless laugh against the stentorious racket. I watched as her head fell back and as her arms grew taunt and as her grip grew tighter around the string of garland, the garland that she had looped about some boy's neck.  
  
I glided through the wells of partygoers, as stealthy as a cat, my gaze never leaving her.  
  
She never saw me.  
  
I finally reached the fir tree, and simply regarded her. It felt as though my heart was being mutilated in my chest in an impossibly savage way. The roars of sound were only dim in tone to me, as I felt nauseated with utter forlornness and misery and yet at the same time blinded by a haze of red infuriation.  
  
My clammy hand absentmindedly fell to the back of an antediluvian chair, and I soon found myself seated in it, the spiteful bright lights and laughter of the holiday spirit all around me. Yet, it was as though I was desperately isolated from it as I sat in that chair and beheld her as she danced insouciantly about with that other man. I could actually feel my heart searing in two.  
  
As I was delving deeper into my sorrow, I felt a hand find its way to my shoulder. I abruptly raised my gaze to see Jack with a cup of eggnog in hand staring solemnly out at Annie. I elicited a sigh and once again found my chin to my hand.  
  
"Spot, I'se sahrry. I didn't know. D'ya want to tawk about it?" he implored, his voice gentle.  
  
I heavily shook my head, for I knew that I would utterly break down if I were to discuss my recent plight, especially with the present vision of her spinning gaily with another on the floor.  
  
He was silent for a moment, before he said, "Spot, I know, but its Christmas. Try to enjoy yaself. Dere's lots of poitty goils dat would love ta dance wit you."  
  
I did not respond, and after a few moments I felt his touch slowly retract from my shoulder, as my pain only incremented until my head was throbbing grandly and my stomach was writhing.  
  
I fancy I had lost track of time, for my eyes had become weary and my head was excruciatingly painful. I released a slight groan and pressed my first three fingers between my brow, vigorously rubbing the spot, my eyes clenched, hoping that the discomfort would do away. For it was then that I felt a sharp, cold, yet somehow wonderfully sweet blast of air enter my left ear canal and a bewitchingly soft voice query, "What do you want for Christmas, Spot?"  
  
I halted the motion, my fingers falling to the bridge of my nose, and my eyes opening wide. I slowly averted my eyes, my head following suit, and nearly released a cry for none other than a girl stood behind me, bent subtly at the waist.  
  
There was something wonderfully curious about her demeanor. She had tangles of long, pale yellow hair, the palest yellow, almost white. Her hair complimented her creamy skin and electric blue eyes. Everything seemed to be waxen and bright about her, down to her immaculate dress, save for the eyes, her stunningly haunting eyes.  
  
I turned in the chair, arching my torso so that it caused a dull throb of pain, my eyes wide and full of incredulity. "Ya-ya know me name?"  
  
She straightened and nodded, a smile playing upon the corners of her pale lips like a shadow of the light.  
  
"But-but," I stammered, somewhat jilted by her sudden appearance. "How?"  
  
She raised a brow and came around the chair, as though inquiring whether or not it was relevant. "Would you like to dance?"  
  
Still stumbling at her fascinating oddness, I spoke nothing but sputters as I felt her cold hand slip like silk into mine, pulling me to my feet.  
  
She led me to where the others were dancing with great ease, as though they parted for her, only clustering together again for me. Her arm was behind her, mine in front of me, her fingers slipped within mine as I blundered to the floor.  
  
My gaze now fell to Annie who was dancing seductively close to the unknown newsie, their arms and the garland wrapped about each other. I could just feel the absolute passion in her eyes without even gazing directly into them.  
  
I felt the anger and hurt start to rise once again from my depths, my mind ripping itself in two with whether to dash over to the bastard and plunder him to within an inch of his life or to simply stride out the door, wallowing in my despair as Christmas passed for another year.  
  
Yet, my thoughts were dashed as I felt the mysterious girl lace her fingers into mine and as she drew closer to me so we pressed together, her chin residing slightly superior to my shoulder.  
  
"What do you want for Christmas, Spot?" she asked in that low voice again, a cool wind entering my ear.  
  
I looked down at her, taking my gaze away from Annie, suddenly feeling her frigid fingers intertwined in mine tenfold, a surprisingly most pleasing sensation. I elicited a false laugh. I concocted a fictitious reply, for how could I possibly tell her what I yearned for truly?  
  
"A porc'lin tub wit boilin watah."  
  
She only released a small noise sounding like 'hum' and proceeded to rest her chillsome cheek against my chest, a cold that had penetrated my heart through my layers of clothing, though I was too transfixed with regarding Annie.  
  
***  
  
Time past by in a dizzying blur. The inebriated partygoers grew chattier as the empty alcohol bottles piled up on the ground and as the clock neared midnight. Though, the small band still played dutifully on as the couples still waltzed slowly back and forth.  
  
Though, in that time span a startling revelation occurred to me. My misery and fury of Annie slowly began to disintegrate, to slowly darken, until all I could see was the wonderfully pale beautiful girl that I beheld in front of me. The oppressing thoughts had began to crack and shatter, and all I could feel was her cold hands in mine. I reckoned that I hadn't glanced at Annie for hours.  
  
There was now a slow waltz filling the air, and I held her close to me, as we lazily shuffled out feet back and forth, back and forth in one repetitive motion.  
  
Yet, a peculiar thing happened. As she lifted her polar cheek from my chest I raised my vision and my if only temporary cocoon of pleasure came crashing down as I espied Annie still dancing with the same newsboy, yet her eyes locked on mine.  
  
I suddenly felt my throat constrict marvelously as I gasped for air.  
  
"Spot," she asked, her cold breath once again filling my air, causing gooseflesh to arise on my arms as I stared into Annie's fiery eyes.  
  
"Huh?" I inquired, never losing the gaze.  
  
"Spot, what do you want for Christmas?"  
  
Alas, this time, staring into those eyes and feeling my pulse race unbridled, I could not bite my tongue and concoct a fib. My features fell lax laced with forlorn, as those green orbs burned into me. The truth unwittingly spilled from my soul. "Ta be rid of dis hoit, dis pain, dis angah," I whispered.  
  
Abruptly, the music halted and I felt the girl pull away from me, as my gaze fell away from Annie. She released one hand from my grasp and loosely held my fingers in hers. Without a word, she turned, and began gliding across the floor, seemingly more blindingly white than possible.  
  
I could only follow, my feet clumsily planting themselves where her dainty ones had been. She brought me out the parlor.  
  
"Where-where are we going?" I stammered.  
  
She did not reply, yet only pressed a palm to the door and bade it to open. She halted in the doorway of the lodging house, she one side and I on the other.  
  
I averted my eyes to the snow, squinting, for the veils were coming down so heavy, so thick, beating at my face and whipping my hair, the string of the wind chilling my face.  
  
I turned again to her, and she remained still and calm, as white as the snow. "Why are we here?" I implored, raising my voice over the howling winds.  
  
Her eyes flickered skyward as she stepped closer to me. I followed her gaze to see a string of green mistletoe hanging over the threshold.  
  
"Because, I'm going to give you what you asked for for Christmas," she replied, her hair blowing about in the wind, indistinguishable from the falling flakes.  
  
My features twisted into bewilderment. "What I'se wanted foah--" Yet, my silly mortal statement was sweetly interrupted as she pressed her bewitchingly warm lips to mine. I immediately felt as though I were being electrocuted, for bright shots of a warm fever faced throughout my every fiber, searching my entire being and melting away all the desperation and misery and unwelcome feelings. I released a soft noise of acceptance as I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against hers, savoring the temptation.  
  
And then I opened my eyes, and elicited a marvelous gasp.  
  
She was gone.  
  
I spun about, my gaze scouring desperately for her. But I knew somehow she was gone forever. I immediately pressed my fingers to my lips to find them still warm. In fact, my whole body was warm as though some delicious ambrosia pulsated through it.  
  
I pressed my fingers harder to my lips, savoring the lasting warmth, as a small, private smile formed on my mouth. I turned to the lodging house, taking in through the snow-laced windows the fervent joy that ruptured from inside, the waning candles that protected from absolute dark, the melodic and warmhearted laughter that floated about like an infection.  
  
And suddenly my eyes fell to Annie. She was, of course dancing seductively with a random newsie, yet I did not give a damn. For all my soul, I did not give a damn. I did not feel anything towards her.  
  
I cast my gaze once more past the bowed porch and to the immaculate snow beautifully stark against the pitch sky full of cold stars.  
  
"Well, I'll be damned," I smiled, my fingers still pressed to my hot lips.  
  
And with that I turned, and went into the warm lodging house with an idiotic grin upon my lips as the clock nearly struck twelve to hear my name being called out and wishings of "Merry Christmas!" filling my ears.  
  
And I accepted the greetings and returned the well wishings, for I had received the only thing I had longed for all the nightlong. The phantasmal girl had induced into me what Jack had simply wanted all along-Yuletide cheer.  
  
And indeed I did consume the eggnog spiked with punch and play a hand of Racetrack's poker and even danced with Kid Blink's redhead before Christmas had slipped like sand through open fingers, disappearing for another year. 


End file.
